


One Step, Two Steps

by levken



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7098685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levken/pseuds/levken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Ensemble Stars! drabble collection that really probably will never make any sense. It's just random stuff I felt like writing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Leo/Tsukasa

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble dump. I'll update whenever I have inspiration, but I don't mind requests. I just have to have inspiration for it, but well, thanks ahead of time ♡ 
> 
> None of this is beta'd because they're drabbles and edits will be made when I'm around to notice mistakes.
> 
> 01 - Leo/Tsukasa, 1k, Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun AU...vaguely, anyway. G.  
> 02 - Chiaki/Izumi, 2k, maid cafe. T.  
> 03 - Leo/Tsukasa, 800+, Halloween event, G.  
> 04 - Ritsu/Izumi, ???, snow, G.  
> 05 - Leo/Tsukasa, ???, future, G.  
> 06 - Ritsu/Izumi(->Leo), 500+, soulmates, G.
> 
> (p.s. one step, two steps is a love song and this is gonna just be ship stuff prob so whatev. random title hell.)

He’s never spoken to him, but Tsukasa knows that Tsukinaga Leo, third year, friends with Sakuma Ritsu, Narukami Arashi, and Sena Izumi, is definitely crush-worthy. It isn’t as if he actually knows much about his personality other than hearing about how unique he is from his classmates, but...that’s enough, isn’t it? Seeing him be so energetic and warm while hanging out with people who only know rudeness, such as Sena-senpai, must mean that he’s adaptable, and understanding, and above all, optimistic. There’s no other way he could keep smiling despite his surroundings, and Tsukasa finds it oddly admirable; a commoner’s hopefulness truly is something that he could never capture for himself--it only sprouts in dark places, bringing happiness to everyone it surrounds simply by being undeniably well intended.

 

All of this, in Tsukasa’s mind, makes Tsukinaga Leo the perfect crush. A crush that, after months and months of harboring these feelings, he’s decided he finally needs to reveal, if only to do so before Leo graduates and leaves Tsukasa’s life forever.

 

The main problem he has to tackle is how exactly to go about this. 

 

Tsukasa isn’t conceited by any means (he is), but he’s not an unfortunate guy when it comes to status or looks, so the idea of Leo rejecting him doesn’t even cross his mind until he thinks about it longer. He’s an upperclassman, one with a wide group of friends at that (he thinks), and while Tsukasa isn’t a bad choice in terms of his personality and looks that perfectly suit a heir like himself, his experience is so close to none that it’s embarrassing to even think about revealing--not that he  _ has _ to, because he’s ninety percent sure everyone in his grade already knows anyway. How can he possibly make himself sound more appealing than the older boys Leo surrounds himself with? 

 

On top of that, where is he supposed to do all of this, anyway? With his resources, he could always leave Leo a note asking him to meet Tsukasa somewhere fancy, but that might seem too suspicious, and he probably won’t show up at all! There’s always the cliché sweetness that comes with confessing behind the school after all of their classes are out, but isn’t that too maiden-like? He doesn’t want to come off as similar to a teenage girl in love; no, he might be younger, but he knows what he wants and how to get it!

 

(Asking his the other students in his year doesn’t really help his cause at all, either. They’re either too clueless or too forward for him to reason with, and one of them even suggested just dying instead of confessing period. As if he’d consider doing that!)

 

Ultimately, he decides the best course of action is to make his confession as simple as possible. He’ll be straightforward, catching Leo alone in the classroom after everyone else has left, and when he has the perfect opportunity, he’ll tell him all about how much he appreciates his kind personality in such a bitter world, and about how he’s come to appreciate him in a way that’s more than friendly. With his intentions as clear as possible, Leo will have no choice but to respond to his confession, and even if it’s a rejection, Tsukasa will be completely fine with that!

 

...Probably, anyway.

 

( _ Not _ .)

 

The day finally rolls around after a few weeks of planning, and when it does, Tsukasa feels more ready than he’s ever been. The overwhelming eagerness that built over the last week is so prominent that he can hardly stop himself from speaking as soon as he sees Leo in the classroom, everyone else having left to attend their respective clubs already, but he at least gets his name out first. That’s a start.

 

“Tsukinaga-senpai?”

 

“Hmmm? Ahhh…. _ you _ ?” 

 

Ouch. Well, it’s not like it can be expected of Leo to know Tsukasa’s name. He is an upperclassman, after all, and they’ve never really spoken before now. That’s fine--he’ll just have to make him remember it.

 

“I have something to tell you.” 

 

That’s right.

 

Starting out slow is the best way to do this. That way he doesn’t trip over his words or portray his feelings improperly. That way this moment can be perfe--

 

“Well, go ahead already! You know, if you want to tell me you admire me, you don’t have to say it so shyly!”

 

Uh. That’s…not what he expected to hear, but it’s...okay. It’s fine. This doesn’t mean his perfect plan is ruined.

 

“That’s...well, yes. I’m Tsukasa Suou, and,” he pauses, collecting the words in his mind properly, “I’m a huge fan of yours.”

 

“A fan.” 

 

The words feel like they echo in the empty room. A fan. Had that been wrong? Too serious? Too stupid? 

 

“A…. _ fan _ .” 

 

Tsukasa lifts his gaze again, unsure of whether or not he actually wants to see Leo’s his face, but it’s the opposite of what he expects. He doesn’t look condescending, or even humored. He just looks...confused.

 

“You…” Leo pushes away from his spot near the window, approaching Tsukasa as if his nerves are made of steel. “You’re a fan of mine?!”

 

“Yes, well, you’re just so--”

 

“No, no, I know! Hold the compliments! I know I’m a musical genius and all of that already! It’s just,” he stares, eyebrows furrowing as he leans close to inspect Tsukasa’s face, as if there’s something interesting to see, “how did you find me out?!”

 

Find out what? A musical genius? Huh?

 

Tsukasa’s happy to hear that his crush is talented musically, but that doesn’t make sense. He’s never heard about that at all until now!

 

“Wow...just wow! Wahahaha! I never knew someone outside of that group would find out! You really proved me wrong!” Leo takes a step back, seeming genuinely impressed, but at what? What was supposed to be going on?

 

“No, I...don’t know what you’re talking about. I  _ am  _ your fan, but--”

 

“No! Don’t take it back now! Really, I admire your detective work, Tsu...ah...Suou!” 

 

He’s forgotten already?!

 

“And since you’re such a dedicated fan, I can’t not reward you for it! Just hold on!” Leo digs around in his jacket pocket, providing a marker after only a few seconds, but once he looks back to Tsukasa, he seems confused again. “Oh, but you don’t have anything to sign.”

 

“Sign?” Tsukasa brings his hand to his chest, completely lost at how this situation progressed. Just who is this guy, this Tsukinaga-senpai that he had admired so much only thirty minutes ago?! Where did that nice imagery go?!

 

“Ah! You’re right. That’s perfect!” 

 

Tsukasa has no idea what he’s talking about, but before he can react, Leo’s grabbing his wrist, roughly pulling it toward himself and holding it within reach. Cap held in between his teeth, he pushes up Tsukasa’s sleeve with his free hand, and then shifts the marker between his fingers. The scribbles are drawn on the underside of Tsukasa’s arm before he can think to stop it--the moment Leo touched near his hand, his whole mind sort of short-circuited, anyway--and once Leo’s done, he caps the marker and gives Tsukasa a good few pats on the shoulder.

 

“Thanks for being such a loyal fan! Let’s keep this between you and me, okay?”

 

“Huh?”

 

_ Huh?! _

 

Leo’s already heading toward the door, and between trying to watch him go and instinctively wanting to stare blankly ahead, he gives up and instead focuses on the writing that forcibly covers his arm. 

 

His mother is going to kill him for it if she sees it, and he didn’t even get to properly confess to his crush. He could chase him down now, but wouldn’t that be awkward? Besides, everything he’d known about him had been crushed in a matter of minutes, so how exactly can he confront him anyway?

  
So many questions without any answer, and the most important of all seems to mock him, the source of it mockingly drying below his wrist--who even is “ _ Composition Fiend X _ ”?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew, you can obviously tell this is an AU, and it's left pretty open-ended. i might continue it in another drabble but...who knows? thanks for kudos + comments! they encourage me to write more ♡


	2. Chiaki/Izumi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blossom by wings is a good song.

It’s only tradition that every year at least one festival comes along to force each class, typically separated from their fellow unit members, to learn how to properly work together in order to meet one common goal: putting together a booth that will satisfy the guests (usually female fans) who visit.

 

It’s also—unfortunately, Izumi thinks—only tradition that one of the booths hosted by the graduating class is what the school labels a fan favorite, the ever so cliche and obnoxious maid cafe. 

 

It’s not as if Izumi’s particularly against the idea of wearing feminine clothes, because whatever, that isn’t a big deal. It’s just that when it’s done for fanservice, with any member of his unit allowed to visit at any point, it becomes a concept that completely sours his mood, so he naturally doesn’t want this project to fall into his hands (which it inevitably will, or at least the combined hands of him and Hasumi).

 

The other class doesn’t want the task either. Actually, it’s more like five of them don’t really care (the first four being too weird to give a fuck, and the other being Kiryuu, who will probably only be sewing anyway), and the sixth person is vehemently against it to the point of volunteering himself to compete in the necessary game of rock paper scissors. Izumi doesn’t think that the rest of them are completely incompetent about this (Hakaze and Hasumi are at least as against it as he is), but he decides to take on the task of winning over 3-B for himself, mainly because Nazuna’s the opponent, and he definitely wants to see his losing face.

 

As it turns out, he does  _ not  _ get to see Nazuna’s losing face. What he actually sees is Nazuna sticking his tongue out at him as he internally frets over his choice of scissors (choosing paper as the way to go is something he’d learned in first grade! How could he be so stupid?), and when he walks back to face his classmates, he immediately shoots them a look that says, “Don’t even think about saying anything.”

 

“Awww, come on, Sena! It won’t be a bad thing,” Chiaki says, clasping him on the shoulder. “I think it’ll be fun!”

 

* * *

 

It is  _ not  _ fun. Izumi knows this the moment he tries on the costume.

 

While some of them get away without having to fight with extensions, due to a suggestion from an unnamed second year (“Oh, fuck right  _ off _ , Naru!” he had exclaimed during practice as soon as he’d heard about it), Izumi isn’t one of those fortunate souls. He didn’t even know companies they could afford made extensions in his hair color, but whatever. It’s just for one day anyway, and besides, he’s a model—even if he doesn’t like the idea, at least he won’t look bad.

 

It takes extra effort to get them to clip on properly without looking tacky, and when he finally manages, it’s a whole other effort entirely to figure out how he’s going to deal with the problem of the skirt being so breezy. Ultimately, he comes up with the idea of using full length tights that he’d owned from a previous ballet performance, and that’s pleasing enough to stick with him without hearing an argument from the others. They don’t distract from the costume and fit the shape of his legs nicely in a way that no fan would complain about, so when he pushes aside his pride and takes a step outside of the impromptu classroom designated for wardrobe changes, the only thing he has to worry about is getting to 3-A before anyone else enters the hallway.

 

He makes it just in time to see the final tablecloth being set, and when he enters, Chiaki’s the first to notice him.  _ Of course he does _ , Izumi thinks, although he’s not sure if they’re exactly friends. Well, no, they probably are, considering how much class time he spends with him and Hakaze, but this isn’t the first time he’s pondered their relationships for reasons he’s sure Chiaki doesn’t even think twice about.

 

He pushes the thoughts away as Chiaki approaches him, but he raises as hand before Chiaki can speak, a proud smirk finding its way onto his face, even though he doesn’t fully feel that way internally. “I know already. I look good,” he says, letting his gaze trail away from Chiaki and the way his slight amount of muscle really stands out against the lace of the maid outfit. 

 

Don’t think about that. Anything but that.

 

“...Unlike someone,” he finishes, turning his condescendingness on Hakaze now, who was already making a face at him before Izumi even said anything. “You really didn’t even try, did you?” It’s not supposed to be an insult so much as it is an obvious observation.

 

Hakaze doesn’t seem insulted by it anyway, folding his arms over his chest as he frowns and answers, “ _ No _ . Why would I? I’m not exactly pleased by this.” 

 

Of course he wouldn’t be, although judging by his facial expression from earlier, he isn’t one hundred percent against it, either. Izumi’s not oblivious; he can tell when someone was looking him over, whether they meant to be doing it or not. He decides not to say anything about it.

 

“It must be easier for you, when you’re a model, and him,” Hakaze continues with a pointed look at Chiaki, “because he gets to wear basketball shorts under it. I tried and—can you believe it—they suggested I use ripped tights instead to more properly suit the UNDEAD imagery. Yeah, right.”

 

“Tights aren’t so bad!” Chiaki chimes in, the same optimistic grin as always plastered on his face. He probably actually  _ does  _ think this whole ordeal is fun, but no one’s even here yet. He’ll see. “I mean, they suit Sena pretty well, but maybe that’s because he’s a model… Hmm…”

 

There’s a moment where it actually seems like he’s comparing Izumi’s legs with Hakaze’s, and Izumi easily becomes hyper aware of this—not so much the comparison, but the fact that Chiaki is checking out his legs, even though he doesn’t actually intend for it to be that way. He swallows slowly, and then comes to his senses, grabbing Chiaki’s chin to point his gaze upward and away from their legs.

 

“Don’t compare me to him.” He lets go in favor of fixing the long hair he’s unused to, irritation falling perfectly into place on his face. “I’m going to go see if they need any help with the snacks. It’s a miracle we even got Kuma-kun's help for this, although I’m so much better at making sweets, and I don’t want them to actually  _ look  _ like his creations, you know?”

 

It’s a good enough excuse that he doesn’t hear any protests, and he figures he’ll see them later anyway, so he leaves them to their own devices—probably Chiaki being over positive, and, considering their situation, Hakaze having none of it.

 

* * *

 

There’s honestly no way the other booths can compete with theirs. With the maid cafe being tradition, it’s natural that everyone already knows about it, and it’s natural that they get the most traffic, including some guests from other classes. Izumi’s already had to avoid Leo’s skirt-flipping determination, sending him off to bother Hakaze who he claims has no defense. On top of that, he’s already gotten the sickly sweet compliments from Arashi, which he rejects as soon as he hears it in favor of going to collect more orders.

 

With Knights being as popular as it is along with the combination of his newly obtained feminine image, it’s not surprising that Izumi gets way more attention than necessary (only second to Eichi, of course, because as much as he’d like, he hasn’t yet been able to topple a Fine member’s inevitable popularity), and it doesn’t take too long for him to get tired of it.

 

There comes a point where certain fans become ridiculous with their requests, and whereas Chiaki might be okay with fulfilling their requests of performing cutesy actions (not that he’d noticed), Izumi tires of it way too quickly. Once he decides he needs a break, he takes it, but only after Chiaki approaches him, saying something about how he needs someone else in order to complete a certain request. Izumi’s about to tell him no,  _ no way in hell _ , but before he gets a chance, there’s a flash of familiar blond hair that accompanies blue glasses he’d recognize anywhere, along with a certain redhead and his overly sleepy best friend. 

 

Oh no, he’s  _ not  _ doing this, and he needs to get away, but Chiaki’s still talking, and it’s not Izumi’s fault he ends up getting pulled into the nearest broom closet with him—it’s his own for not shutting up quickly enough.

 

“ _ Shhh _ ,” he hisses under his breath, quickly reaching up to cover Chiaki’s mouth with the palm of his hand. It’s too rough, he knows, but Chiaki’s not made of glass, so he puts up with it, and Izumi doesn’t drop his hand until he’s sure they’re safe, or maybe it’s when he becomes fed up with the feeling of Chiaki’s breath against his palm, or maybe it’s a combination of both. Who knows.

 

“Just wait,” he finally starts to explain, wiping his palm against the apron of his skirt. “I  _ don’t  _ want Yuu-kun or Kuma-kun to see me. Not now.” Yuu-kun because…well, it’s  _ Yuu-kun _ , and Kuma-kun because he won’t hear the end of it.

 

“Why? It’s not like you look bad, Sena,” Chiaki says, eyebrows knitting together, and Izumi shouldn’t be taking that as a backwards compliment, but he does. 

 

“It doesn’t matter if I look bad or not—look, just give me this.” He sighs in relief when he hears Chiaki agree, but Chiaki’s a good guy, so of course he does.

 

There’s a silence that follows as Izumi looks toward the door and shifts his position, trying to see if he can look out of the crack between the door and the wall, but the only thing he actually succeeds in is bumping his knees against Chiaki’s leg. Glancing back toward his temporary captive, it doesn’t take long for Izumi to become aware of how little space there actually is in a broom closet; their chests are almost touching, and if Izumi didn’t know any better, he’d say Chiaki’s noticed too, judging by the way that he’s completely backed up against the wall.

 

He knows it’s completely out of politeness and not out of repulsion at the idea of being so close to Izumi, but there’s something about it that bothers him, and he doesn’t know what compels him to take a small, barely noticeable step closer to Chiaki other than a teenager’s instinct to take advantage of any situation with tension. 

 

“You can stop fidgeting,” he says, casually grasping Chiaki’s forearms as if he’s doing so to stop him himself, although that’s far from the truth. It’s not the first time he’s felt the muscle in Chiaki’s arm, and it probably won’t be the last time, either, but it is the first time he’s done it in such a secretive way. He knows his intentions become more obvious as one of his hands shift up farther, and Chiaki’s breath catches in his throat. God, he really is just too nice, and they shouldn’t be doing this—there are people outside, regardless of whether or not they’d seen them enter.

 

“Sena, we...shouldn’t,” Chiaki voices, and for some reason hearing it from him makes Izumi feel less rational about the whole thing. 

 

Yeah, they shouldn’t—it’d definitely be more embarrassing to be caught borderline making out with someone in a closet than it would be to be seen in a maid costume—but isn’t the thrill of it all at least a little bit exciting to Chiaki? It can’t just be Izumi who feels this way. 

 

He knows it by the way Chiaki looks at him, and blame it on the internal frustration that’d sparked every time he saw Chiaki over the course of this afternoon, but Izumi decides to take the chance, lunging forward as his other hand grabs the front of Chiaki’s uniform.

 

“Who  _ cares _ ,” he says as his lips crash against Chiaki’s, and he was right, of course he was, because Chiaki doesn’t make any moves to pull away, the tiniest noise of surprise he emits suppressed by Izumi’s lips against his own.

 

Izumi can’t go so far as to call himself a professional, but he’s by no means bad at kissing, either. He knows how to move his lips against Chiaki’s in the way he likes, even when they haven’t had much practice between the two of them, and upon prompting, he opens his mouth easily, letting Chiaki’s tongue slide against the heat of his own as he chokes back a moan, taking this as a lesson in self control.

 

Chiaki’s hand reaches to knot into his hair right above where the extensions clip in, and Izumi already knows he’s going to have to fix them, but he finds that he doesn’t care when another hand fits so nicely at his waist. He presses closer to Chiaki, leg slotting perfectly between Chiaki’s thighs, and if Chiaki wouldn’t have bitten his lip in surprise, Izumi wouldn’t have even realized the problem that came along with doing so. 

 

He doesn’t entirely mind the slight pain, but it does cause him to pull away, and he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand as he does so, taking a moment to catch his breath. Okay. Okay, this is happening. They’re in a closet, and they almost made out, and...and there’s no way they can do this.

 

Izumi looks up, still breathing a little heavier than normal between his words as he speaks, “Sorry, I...okay. We can’t, we shouldn’t, you were  _ right _ ,” and it normally takes a lot for him to say that.

 

He expects to hear the ‘it’s okay, Sena,’ he always does whenever he intentionally pulls Chiaki along with his urges, but that doesn’t come. What he hears instead is, “I wanted to tell you earlier, but the festival ends in forty-five minutes.”

 

_ Ah. _

 

“Well, probably thirty-five now, though! Haha..”

 

Izumi doesn’t know what to say at first. He looks between Chiaki and the door, thinking about his options, before ultimately deciding to take a step back, nodding slowly. “....Okay. You go first, then. It’ll be more suspicious if people see us coming out together,” he instructs. 

 

Chiaki wordlessly agrees, reaching for the door as Izumi leans out of sight, and once he’s gone, Izumi’s left with only the dim light of the closet and his cell phone camera he’ll use to fix his messed up hair halfheartedly—it’ll probably be ruined again later, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the nickname typos from before. i know the actual stuff well, but i was finishing most of this fic at like 5am, lol. i thought i typo'd it once but i never realized it was actually...so much. sorry again.


	3. Leo/Tsukasa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first Leo/Tsukasa fic/drabble that I wrote originally for...the Halloween event? It's really old, and so are the voices, but I wanted to archive it here anyway, because I don't *entirely* hate it. It's based off that part where Leo's thinking about how he's too old to be an idol or something, then he's like, "Tsukasa will probably come find me to tell me not to skip," or something. Paraphrased b/c I am not going to go find it. But yeah, it's just an old drabble that I hope you like anyway?

“Leader! Please do not skip!”

He’s right on time and he doesn’t even know it—that’s another point for Leo’s natural intuition.

Tsukasa, improperly dressed as a devil (Arashi had reasoned that the point is to be monsters, even if it doesn’t exactly “fit”), finds him at the exact moment and promptly addresses him in the exact way that Leo knew he would. “You can’t be thinking of resting now!” He tacks on, his frown looking out of place on his normally content face.

It’s funny how Leo’s the only one that makes him this way—that even though everyone has to deal with the effect of Tsukasa’s bad mood, Leo’s the cause and he finds a source of excitement in that.

He sits up at his own pace, raising a hand just in time to stop Tsukasa’s repetition of his name. “I heard you, newbie! You don’t have to repeat yourself. I know what time it is!”

“Then… ah, you’re not even wearing a costume! You can’t perform without one. What were you thinking? Come on!”

Leo neglects to mention that he was thinking about how he’s too old for idol activities (which, okay, is a total joke, but sometimes Rei’s “old age” rubs off on him) and allows Tsukasa to pull him along by the wrist out of urgency. He probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it; he’s normally the most respectful one in all of knights and yet here he is, pulling the leader who stands above him like he’s a child.

Leo is okay with it, though, he thinks, because Tsukasa is at his best when he’s stressed and no longer thinking the restrictions placed on him by social norms.

They’re backstage before Leo can even consider stopping him, UNDEAD’s song playing louder in the background. Tsukasa lets go of his wrist to rummage through a trunk and a series of clothing racks for anything that’ll do well enough as a makeshift costume. His obvious frustration shifts into confusion as Leo grabs his wrist this time, signaling for him to stop.

“You,” he says, because he’ll always use anything other than Tsukasa, and reaches up to snatch the horned headband from his head, placing it on himself instead. “I’ll use this.”

Tsukasa frowns again, forehead creasing as he points out that this means he has no real costume, so what is Leo even doing? but Leo remedies this with a quick grab into the chest, producing a pair of black cat ears that seem to fit just fine on Tsukasa’s head.

“Let’s switch. You can be the cat and I’ll be the devil.”

“But Narukami-senpai—”

“—will be fine with it? I thought so! You know, you have great intuition, newbie. Almost as good as mine—no, scratch that. Anyway, let’s switch,” he repeats, not taking no for an answer.

Tsukasa briefly pouts, but gives in only after a second, going to find the proper cat tail as he attempts to unstrap the demon tail from his own belt. His gaze sweeps over the contents of the chest as Leo looks him over instead, amusement plain on his face.

“I don’t know why you want to switch though, Leader. You’d be the better cat anyway! But I won’t question it as long as you’re not skipping. I just hope we have time..”

“We will. The show can’t go on without us, of course!” He tunes out Tsukasa’s scolding about him being so self absorbed, once again taking things into his own hands as he finds the tail himself and steps forward to finish removing the demon’s tail from Tsukasa’s belt. “Hahaha, you’re the one worried about time and you can’t even see something in plain sight! And here I was, thinking you’d learned… Stay still.”

“Leader, I can get it myself! I have learned! Ahhh—hey!”

“Got it!” Leo waves the demon’s tail in Tsukasa’s face with one hand and pulls on the cat’s tail with his other. “Now you’re really a cat, wahaha! The type that’s never gone outside a day in his life, that is.”

“What?! If I’m that type, then you’re the type who sleeps in alleys and picks fights on the street!” Tsukasa reaches back to pry Leo’s fingers off the tail, grabbing the devil’s tail from his hand. “Or you’re a demon. That sounds fit for knights’s leader.”

“Does it? Hmmmm.. I wonder about that.” He allows Tsukasa to return the favor, pinning the tail onto his own belt. “Ah, is our Tsubasa getting bold, reaching behind his leader’s back when he’s vulnerable? Maybe Arashi was right! You really are the devil!”

“I’m not—you aren’t—ugh!” Tsukasa can’t tell if he’s more annoyed at Leo for getting his name wrong or if he’s more bothered that he got embarrassed anyway. “It’s Tsukasa! Tsukasa, Tsukasa!” His protests are only met with laughter, of course, as they always are.

“Of course, of course, Tsubasa. I know that already!” Leo knows he’s about to spark another outburst, but luckily their voices are covered by UNDEAD’s performance. “Now that we’re properly prepared for Halloween, isn’t it about time we celebrated it right? Newbie, trick or treat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> srry. like i said i don't entirely hate it but it's clear i was JUST learning the voices only then, but it makes me a little happy to reflect back on it... i've almost liked leotsu for a year???? wowww?? also i kinda posted this because originally i was writing a past izu->leo unrequited drabble that ended in leotsu but i accidentally...deleted it. lmao. rip. it's okay, though.


	4. Ritsu/Izumi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've gotten pretty wrapped up in rping recently and i've had no interest in writing regularly, unfortunately, but i still wanted to upload something. i write this in the end of july... it's unbeta'd since it's a drabble, and i apologize ahead of time for the cut-off ending, but i thought it worked best that way. hope you like~ kudos and comments are always appreciated <3

“Hey, idiot.”

 

He nudges Ritsu with his foot, trying not to be as rough as he normally would be, but it’s hard to be calm about this when he’d made him worry so much.

 

“I’m talking to you, stupid. If you fall asleep in the snow like this, you’ll get seriously sick, you know?” Izumi presses his lips together into a hard line, keeping his concern off his face.

 

“Nnn, Secchan? I know you’ll miss me if I die and all, but I don’t really think waking me up over it is necessary,” Ritsu says, awake enough to form a coherent sentence, but apparently not enough to realize the trouble he’s in. Izumi waits one beat, two,  _ three _ , and suddenly it hits Ritsu, who sits up faster than Izumi’s ever seen him move in his entire time knowing him.

 

“I told you.” Izumi releases the sigh he’d been holding in, crouching down in front of Ritsu and watching him wrap his arms around himself, trying to find more warmth than his jacket can prove him. “You were supposed to help sweep the sidewalk clean, not fall asleep outside. I had to come looking for you—don’t you think you’re unnecessarily being a pain?”

 

“Cold,” is all Ritsu says, to which Izumi replies with a ‘tsk,’ and looks away. “Secchan, it’s cold.”

 

“ _ Obviously _ , stupid. I don’t know what you thought it would be like to sleep in the snow, but clearly it’s  _ freezing  _ out here,” Izumi says, trying to be cold and ultimately failing. He keeps his gaze off Ritsu, who’s slowly moved to sit on his knees so that he can scoot closer to Izumi, although that’s really not helping his case.

 

Ritsu’s just lucky that Izumi’s so nice—rather, that he’s feeling so nice today, and that he’s Ritsu to begin with, because if this were anyone else, he doesn’t know if he would have put so much effort into looking for them.

 

Slowly, he reaches up to his neck, unraveling his scarf so that he can lean forward and wrap it around Ritsu’s neck instead, expression keeping the same amount of carefully practiced irritation despite how he really feels—concern, maybe, but only because he doesn’t want Ritsu to get sick before any of Knights’s activities, and affection, only if you squint, because he might not have been able to make Ritsu blush yet, but he sure gets to see how his face looks all red now; it’s a fitting colour on him, but then again, Izumi has always known that from the moment he noticed how often he subconsciously studied Ritsu’s eyes.

 

He wraps the scarf tight, tucking it underneath when he finishes folding the fabric together, and Ritsu reaches for his wrists, keeping him from pulling his hands away so that he can press them against his cheeks, which Izumi finds cute until Ritsu makes a dissatisfied noise and says, “Your hands aren’t warm at all, Secchan. What kind of help are you?”

 

Izumi scoffs. “I’ve actually been working properly out here—of course they’re not warm.” A lie. Most of his tasks had taken place inside; his hands had grown cold from all the time he’d spent looking for Ritsu.

 

He wants to scold him more seriously, to call him stupid again, but when he looks at Ritsu and the way he’s shivering, he can’t help but to shove the insults aside, his exhale causing his breath to temporarily form fog in the air. It really  _ is  _ cold.

 

“Come on, Kuma-kun,” he urges, pursing his lips as he hesitates and then leans in to give Ritsu a quick kiss, hoping that if anything, it’ll distract from the cold. Kissing Ritsu always distracts him, at least, from—well,  _ everything _ . He pulls his hands away, and this time Ritsu lets him, sitting up a little more eagerly after that.

 

“Carry me, Secchan,” he whines, and Izumi snorts at the childish tone he takes on.  _ You and I both know I can’t do that _ , he thinks.

 

“Fine,” he says instead, “but you have to stand up yourself.” 

 

It takes some maneuvering, but Izumi eventually manages to get Ritsu on his back, mostly due to Ritsu’s incessant clinging and none of his own strength. If it’s just to the practice room, it might be fine—emphasis on  _ might _ . He tightens his hold under Ritsu’s legs, doing his best to support the extra weight.

 

“Secchan’s really a good boy, huh. Doing his best for someone like me,” Ritsu says softly, but Izumi can practically hear his underlying smirk, and Izumi feels his ears go warm.  _ Embarrassing _ .

 

“Shut up, or I’ll drop you,” he snaps halfheartedly, and they both know it’s a lie.


	5. Leo/Tsukasa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, two-for-two update. i wrote this one in july, too, and it's future leotsu with a lot of indulgence on my part, so. essentially knights isn't anymore, tsukasa's working to own the business, leo still composes in his room, blah blah idk, it's just a drabble okay~ (though really in my future aus knights stays together...i just wanted to write this once) again, sorry for the unbeta'd-ness and the change in leo's tone/demeanor (because it's the future)...and the shortness of the ending, but it was a one time drabble so...yeah! i appreciate everything, by the way~

“Leader—”

 

“It’s not  _ Leader _ ,” Leo interrupts, looking up from his notepad for the first time to shoot Tsukasa an almost-impatient look, which isn’t at all as threatening as he intends it to be; maybe it would have been, in the past, when Tsukasa hadn’t grown taller than him yet. “I’m not the leader of Knights anymore, so I’m not ‘Leader’ to you.”

 

Tsukasa pauses, and then—

 

“ _ Leader _ ,” he reiterates. He leans forward some from his position on the floor next to Leo, palms placed flatly on his knees, so that he can try and see what Leo’s writing down—who is he composing for, if not for Knights? He wants to lie and say he doesn’t know why it does, but Tsukasa is fully aware of the reason why it makes him feel bitter.

 

“You really don’t give up, do you, Suo~? Ah, well, I guess I can’t stop you from calling me whatever you like, but living in the past isn’t going to do anything for yo—,” Leo stops mid-sentence, gaze flickering down to the hand now grasping his wrist, and then to the bright eyes staring intently at him. It’s just like they’re in high school all over again, except this time he’s looking up to him and not the one dragging him along by the wrist.

 

“Leader, compose a song for me. I’ll sing it,” Tsukasa says, and then hesitates, realizing how bold a demand that is. He releases Leo’s wrist and leans forward again on the floor, this time to halfway kneel in front of him. “Please,” he adds.

 

Ah.

 

“You—,” Leo stops again, sighing. He places the notepad down on the table in front of him, running a hand through his loose hair as he tries not to feel...embarrassed? Well, it’s that newbie’s fault for being so polite. “Jeez, just… Get up already, Tsukasa.”

 

And he does, quicker than Leo expected, eyes shining brighter than before, if that’s even possible. Having stashed himself away in his dimlit apartment for a while, Leo almost feels the need to squint, but he doesn’t want to; in fact, he sort of likes seeing such a hopeful expression on his junior’s face, even if he hadn’t expected to see it again.

 

“Tsukasa?” Tsukasa repeats, sounding stupid for saying his own name. “You called me Tsukasa!”

 

“Oh.” 

 

Okay, well—Leo’s too old to be keeping up the “I don’t know your name thing” anyway, right? He couldn’t have kept it going forever. It’s just that—he wishes he’d put a little more thought into ending it, but okay, whatever. It’s not like he’s bitter than Tsukasa ended up pulling the wool over his eyes by embarrassing him a little or anything.

 

“That’s—yeah, I guess I did,  _ newbie _ ,” he says. “Ah, but I’ve already known your name for a long time, you know! You were apart of  _ my  _ Knights,  _ Tsubasa _ , so how couldn’t I? What kind of incompetent leader did you think I was?”

 

Yeah, not bitter at all, and totally not satisfied when he watches the excitement drain from Tsukasa’s face as quickly as it came.  _ Got him _ , he thinks, but despite his own sabotage, he also finds himself wanting to bring back Tsukasa’s smile.

 

“Anyway,” he interjects before Tsukasa can argue. “I’ll compose a song for you, if you really want me to. Although I don’t know where you’re going to sing it.”

 

It’s common knowledge that neither of them are idols anymore—he’d retreated back to living by himself, composing for work, and Tsukasa had began to properly take up his parents’ responsibilities.

 

“Ah…” Clearly, Tsukasa hadn’t thought about it, but he thinks about it now, eyebrows knitting together and forehead creasing a little as he tries to put effort into it; of course he could get a venue for something related to his parents easily, but he doesn’t want to do something like that.

 

He scoots closer to Leo, and Leo instinctively leans away a bit, regretful that he doesn’t have the same energy from when he was younger to compete properly with Tsukasa, but he at least has his words.

 

“Hmmm, newbie, what are you doing, getting all close like that? If you’re trying to embarrass me, you’re going to have to do better than that, waha—”

 

“I’ll sing it for you,” Tsukasa says seriously.

 

Well. He did better, that’s for sure.

 

“Just you, Leader, because you wrote it for me, and that’s what matters.” How does he sound so earnest about it? “I’ve been wanting to hear your songs again for so long, so now...it’d make me really happy to be able to sing one for you!”

 

“That’s,” Leo starts, but stops. He feels the heat on his ears before it spreads to his cheeks, so luckily he can redirect his face first. “And people called me weird. Aren’t you weirder, Suo~?”

 

“Huh?”


	6. Ritsu/Izumi(->Leo)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a really vague, open-ended soulmate au. i don't know how to make sense of it. something about tattoos that say something yr soulmate says to you. it doesn't make sense cuz typically it'd be the first thing, but let's just not think about it too much since it's only a drabble with no world building ajskdflh

“You’re interesting, you know? Sena~?” Leo says casually, cap of a marker pressed between his teeth as his focus remains entirely on the paper in front of him. 

 

Izumi doesn’t even know why he says it; neither of them had said a word for the past twenty minutes, and that had been fine with him. Sitting in silence with Leo had never been something he could complain about, not when just being with him period made him feel whole in a way that he never had before.

 

“Whatever,” Izumi says, like the silence hadn’t been replaced by his loud heartbeat resounding in his ears, like those weren’t the words he had been waiting to hear since he was young and first learned what a soulmate was. Leo isn’t looking at him, so he holds one hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the giddy, yet embarrassing feeling building inside of him.

 

Leo had said it—after all of this wait, hoping for it and persuading himself that it would never happen at the same time, Leo had finally said it.

 

“Sena? Why’re you so red all of a sudden? If you’re sick, I don’t think I could carry you to the nurse, so~...”

 

“Shut up,” Izumi says, pushing Leo’s face away from his by the cheek—when had he gotten so close? “The only thing I’m sick of is you, idiot.”

 

Leo laughs in the way that always makes Izumi’s chest feel like a crinkling candy wrapper, dismissing Izumi’s mean words, and Izumi can’t help but to smile back.

 

* * *

 

Ritsu traces over the words lightly imprinted on Izumi’s skin, starting from his inner wrist and leading up his arm, a quiet hum accompanying his exploration. 

 

“Did Ou-sama say this to you?” He asks, hair falling over his eyes as he keeps his head low, knowing that he had broken the natural silence that came between them at times.

 

Izumi doesn’t answer, but Ritsu knows he will, so he doesn’t say anything else; instead, he continues to circle around the characters with his index finger, purposely ignoring how Izumi’s pulse had quickened. He doesn’t stop until Izumi jerks his arm away, to which he lifts his head, looking to meet Izumi’s gaze while already knowing that Izumi wouldn’t dare face him.

 

“What, are you stupid? I think I’d die if I heard that guy say it. There’s no way I could put up with that for the rest of my life,” Izumi says stiffly, cheek resting against the pillow of Ritsu’s bed as Ritsu crouches over him. He tries to bury his face deeper into the fabric as he hears Ritsu laugh above him, but finds it utterly pointless, eventually turning his head to look at him again. 

 

“What exactly is so funny,” he asks, though it’s hardly a question.

 

“Nothing,” Ritsu says quickly, glancing over to the window, where the sun’s light attempts to peek through his dark curtains. “It’s just.. You’re interesting, you know? Secchan.”

 

Izumi goes quiet again, and Ritsu temporarily worries that he’d gone too far, but then Izumi speaks up again, his irritation obvious, “You really are stupid.” 

 

Another pause. 

 

Then, his voice softer: “Wouldn’t that be easy?”

 

Ritsu laughs again, letting himself fall back on the bed, and says, “Too easy, Secchan,” as if his heartbeat wasn’t faster than Izumi’s when Ou-sama had been brought up, as if that wasn’t the question he’d been waiting to hear since he was young and first learned what a soulmate was.

  
  



	7. Ritsu/Izumi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> future fic. established relationship ritsuizu with izumi walking drunk!ritsu home after a class reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not proofread 4 errors sorry. there's nsfw mention(s?) but nothing serious ahsdfjg. they're adults idk how old i didn't think about it but. adults. old.

Izumi doesn’t understand the need for a reunion—he’d seen some of these people last week, and the ones he hadn’t, he’d most likely seen on TV within the past few months (granted, he isn’t really a television watcher and only ever has it on when Ritsu decides to take one of his postcoital naps on top of him, but the brief ten minutes he sees of their faces before he decides to push Ritsu off and away is enough, okay?)—but he somehow found himself going anyway, at the request of someone who doesn’t even belong there.

 

His graduating class hadn’t included Ritsu, which was Ritsu’s own fault, really, despite the fact that he had no idea of what their future situation would be prior to his decision to purposely fail, so there wasn’t really a place for Ritsu at the reunion. Izumi, being himself, had to demand a reason for it, but as it turned out, there was no reason for him to come at all, except that he was feeling a bit interested in having a drink that night, and  _ aren’t you supposed to bring your significant others to these things, anyway? _ Izumi wanted to point out that if he wanted to spend a night with Rei watching him from across the room, then he would start inviting him to their dates, but Ritsu had interrupted at the name, changing the subject.

 

Izumi soon found that for someone who’s all talk and teasing and “ _ Wow, Secchan can’t handle his alcohol, can he, _ ” Ritsu sure got tipsy quickly. Maybe it was the type of alcohol—the cheap beer that Izumi refused to touch unless prodded by Ritsu to do so (literally, with a slightly drunk Ritsu to push the glass against his lips too roughly and all)—but somehow or another, Izumi ended up having to walk a drunk back to their apartment, pulling him by the hand in the dark of the night.

 

“I thought I was bringing my boyfriend with me, not some middle schooler who just had a sip of beer for the first time in his life and got drunk off half the first bottle,” Izumi says, walking in front of a stumbling Ritsu, who only laughs in response. “Hey. Hey, I wasn’t making a joke for you to laugh at. It was seriously lame of you, you know?”

 

“It wasn’t even in a bottle,” Ritsu points out, closing distance between them until he walks next to Izumi, “and it was  _ way _ more than one bottle, anyway.  _ Ugh… _ I thought I had a responsible boyfriend who would stop me from drinking too much.” When Izumi doesn’t answer immediately, Ritsu bumps their shoulders together, laughing to himself again. “Nn? Secchan?”

 

“No way.” Izumi stops in front of the nearest street light, internally cursing it for letting him see Ritsu’s flushed cheeks—he might be an annoying drunk, but he’s also a cute one. (Red really is his colour.)  “Why would I stop you from making an idiot of yourself? It was hilarious seeing you let your brother cozy up to you. I might have even gotten a picture or two.”

 

The speed at which Ritsu does a complete flip in demeanor should be written down in a world record book. Izumi leans back against the street light pole behind him, eyeing Ritsu as he approaches with the most childish pout of his that Izumi’s seen to date. If getting tipsy makes him act so cutely, then maybe Izumi should think of it as less of a chore and more of a reward for putting up with him, but he obviously can’t say that out loud, so instead he stares down at him (as much as he can; two centimeters isn’t much), and says, “Haah? Are you trying to corner me suddenly, Kuma-kun? How  _ cheeky _ .”

 

“Secchan,” Ritsu says seriously, or at least he’s trying to be serious, but with a slur and a whine, there’s only so much Izumi can do to keep from laughing at him. “If you took a picture, you better delete it  _ now _ .”

 

“Or what?”

 

Izumi had learned not to say that—to his annoyance, Ritsu is stronger than him, so it never ends well—but Ritsu is drunk, and Izumi deserves to tease him a little, to get back at him for dumping this responsibility on him in the first place. He expects Ritsu to whine more, to maybe try biting at him somehow or another, but he doesn’t. Instead, Ritsu steps closer until there is no longer any distance between them and nuzzles into the shoulder of his jacket, going quietly still until Izumi prompts him to speak again.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Mmm, Secchan is so mean..”

 

Izumi can barely hear him through the fabric of his own clothing, but he can tell well enough what he’s trying to get at just by the tone of his voice. “A little late to notice that, Kuma-kun,” he says, humored by his own joke.

 

Ritsu doesn’t say anything, wrapping his arms around Izumi’s waist and rubbing his cheek against Izumi’s shoulder. Great—they’re outside, and drunk Ritsu has decided that this is the perfect time for terrible displays of affection. It’s a good thing it’s so late, otherwise Izumi would be actually concerned about appearances.

 

“You’re being a baby.” He reaches up to pet the back of Ritsu’s hair, pausing to tug at a few strands and earning a half hearted growl in response. Who does he think he is, Ou-sama?  _ Stupid _ . “We have to go home, you drunk.”

 

“You’re bullying me, even though I like you so much.” Ritsu pulls his head away from Izumi’s shoulder, but he doesn’t look up at him. “Secchan, I  _ like _ you, so be nice to me?”

 

What is  _ that _ . Izumi can’t help but to scoff. Seriously, is he actually a child? A real, live, genuine  _ child _ ?

 

“Is this a drunken confession? I’m not really into that sort of thing. It’s  _ so _ not romantic. In fact, I might have to reject you here for doing something so stupid.” If they hadn’t been dating for a few years now, that might have seemed harsh, but as it is, Ritsu deserves to hear it for being so ridiculous.

 

“What?” 

 

Ritsu seems genuinely puzzled by the concept, which makes it funnier for Izumi, until—

 

“Don’t do that,” Ritsu says, leaning up to press his lips against the side of Izumi’s neck. His hands are trailing up Izumi’s back and under his jacket, pulling the hem of his shirt up with them. 

 

It feels sudden, but he knows it’s not; Ritsu’s always this way whenever he gets something to drink. Izumi should have expected it, yet his breath gets caught in his throat all the same as Ritsu bares his teeth against his neck, not pressing hard enough to hurt, but enough that Izumi knows he intends to.

 

“If you do that, I’ll turn you into a vampire and curse you for the rest of eternity.”

 

It’s an empty threat—Izumi saw past Ritsu’s middle schooler disease years ago and has long since gotten used to it, but this statement is embarrassing, even for him. It’s a good thing that he said something so stupid; it’s enough to ruin whatever mood was building, and Izumi appropriately pushes him away, then catches his lips in a brief, less heated kiss.

 

“You’re  _ soooo _ embarrassing,” he chides, prying Ritsu’s hands away and keeping one of them in his grip. “We’re going home now, before you get us reported for public indecency. Seriously—outside? What are you, an animal?”

 

“Vampire,” Ritsu corrects, letting Izumi pull him along, too drunk to properly pursue the argument of whether or not he should be trying to kiss Izumi’s neck right now instead of being pulled along by the hand like a child.

 

“Vampi—whatever. Sure, sure, you’re whatever you want to be, Kuma-kun.” He pulls on Ritsu’s hand until Ritsu gets the hint and catches up with him, walking side by side again. “I’m never bringing you out to a place like this again, you know. You’re  _ so  _ annoying when drunk.”

 

“Heh… At least I didn’t glare down anyone who got near you, unlike  _ someone else _ who did that when drun—”

 

“Shut up.” He squeezes Ritsu’s hand tighter, earning another drunken whine from him, which is way better than hearing him bring up old memories that Izumi had sworn to forget. “I’ll make you sleep on the couch when we get back to the apartment.”

 

“What?  _ Nooo _ .” It’s not like Izumi actually  _ can  _ do that anyway, but drunken Ritsu apparently can’t process that fact, so Izumi takes advantage of the situation. “I’ll be good.”

 

“Mhm? We’ll see, then,” he says noncommittally, swinging their hands a little bit—Ritsu won’t remember him doing this later, so it’s okay to be a bit embarrassing, and even if he does remember, Izumi will be sure to annoy his hungover self with as much bitching as he can possibly manage until he decides to forget.


End file.
